Mediterranean Millionaires. Lynne Graham

the appalling change in Hope. He had destroyed her tranquillity and plunged her into so much misery and confusion that she was making wild accusations.

      Of course Campbell was the father of her baby! But evidently, Hope did not want Campbell in that role. It seemed obvious to Andreas that Hope’s toy boy had cut and run from the threat of paternity and left her in the lurch. So how was that his business? And why was he getting involved? Hope was in trouble and she had approached him for help. Who else did she have to turn to? Why shouldn’t he demonstrate that he was more of a man when the chips were down than Campbell would ever be?

      Back at Vanessa’s apartment, Hope was tumbling a jumble of clothes into a squashy bag and asking feverishly, ‘Are you absolutely sure it’s OK for me to use your family’s cottage?’

      ‘Stop fussing. My mother’s in Jersey and my aunt, Ben’s mother, is far too grand for the cottage now. At least you’ll keep it aired,’ Vanessa remarked. ‘But is it such a good idea for you to leave London right now?’

      ‘I need peace…I have to think.’

      Vanessa gave her a wry look. ‘Well, not about what you’ll be doing with the baby. You’re crazy about babies, so I feel it’s fairly likely that you’ll be keeping the sprog. This sudden departure from city life, however, feels more like you’re running away—’

      Hope lifted her head, turquoise eyes defiant at that charge. ‘I’ll only be at the cottage for a few days. I’m not running away. I just don’t want to see Andreas—’

      ‘I don’t see him around to bother you. I gather by your attitude that he’s not going to be pitching for the Father of the Year award?’ Vanessa could not hide her curiosity.

      ‘Not while he thinks Ben fathered my baby—’

      ‘He thinks Ben knocked you up?’ the redhead queried in lively astonishment.

      ‘I hate that expression. Please don’t use it—’

      ‘Didn’t you tell Andreas how pregnant you are?’

      ‘No, I didn’t stay around to exchange conversation after he had made it clear that he was convinced Ben was the guilty party,’ Hope admitted heatedly. ‘Oh yes, Andreas also accused me of trying to pin my baby on him because Ben didn’t want to know!’

      Her friend gave an exaggerated wince. ‘When Andreas gets it wrong, he gets it horribly wrong.’

      Hope threaded a restive hand through the pale blonde strands of hair falling across her brow. ‘I tried to understand that he trusted his sister and believed in her. I tried to be fair to him but I don’t feel like being understanding any more,’ she confessed in a driven rush. ‘I’ve put up with enough. I thought that Andreas had a right to know about the baby but now I wish I had stayed away from him.’

      ‘I have a confession to make.’ Vanessa stretched her mouth into a wry look of appeal. ‘I told Ben about the baby…I know, I know, it wasn’t my business. Unfortunately I let something slip accidentally over lunch and when he picked up on it, I couldn’t lie, could I?’

      ‘No…you couldn’t lie.’ But Hope guessed that Vanessa had quite deliberately chosen to break the news of her friend’s pregnancy to Ben. Had her friend been afraid that, on the spur of the moment, Ben might say something hurtful? Or had Vanessa decided that it was unfair that Ben should be left in ignorance while Andreas was put in the picture? Whatever, Vanessa had interfered and perhaps she shouldn’t have done. At that moment, however, Hope was guiltily grateful not to be faced with the embarrassing prospect of having to tell Ben that she was expecting Andreas’s child. Informing Andreas had been upsetting enough. Yet Ben, whom she had been seeing for just three short weeks, was entitled to hear the same announcement.

      ‘Ben was gobsmacked.’ Vanessa heaved a sigh and jerked a slim shoulder. ‘He’s keen on you but I don’t think he has a clue how to deal with this situation.’

      ‘I’m not stupid. I’m not expecting Ben to deal with it and stay around.’ Hope forced a laugh at the very idea. ‘What guy would?’

      Vanessa reflected on that question. ‘A very special one,’ she said finally. ‘But I’m not sure Ben is up for the challenge.’

      ‘Why on earth should he be? Within another month at most I’ll be a dead ringer for a barrel in shape!’ Hope quipped.

      The doorbell went.

      Both women stilled.

      ‘It’s probably for you,’ her friend forecast.

      Hope finished zipping her bag and then, tilting her chin, she went to answer the bell.

      Andreas levelled steady dark golden eyes on her. ‘Invite me in.’

      ‘No.’

      Andreas angled his handsome dark head to one side. ‘Why not? Is your watchdog home?’

      ‘That’s no way to refer to my best friend.’

      ‘Are you saying she has never maligned me?’ Andreas fielded with lethal effect.

      Hope flushed to the roots of her hair and deemed it wisest to say nothing. But she did very nearly confide that she had always warmly defended him from every hint of criticism. Only now she felt ashamed rather than proud of her once-unswerving loyalty. After all, that very day she had been forced to appreciate that Andreas had never had a similar level of faith in her. He found it easy to accept that she had done all sorts of unforgivable things, didn’t he?

      He believed she had slept with Ben and carried on an affair with the other man behind his back. He believed she had lied about her infidelity and engaged in all the deceits that would have been required to conceal that betrayal. He believed she had made up a nasty, sordid story about his sister, Elyssa, in an effort to save her own skin. He also believed that, having found herself in the family way, she had been desperate enough and foolish enough to try and lie about who had put her in that condition in the first place.

      Injured pride and deep pain warred inside Hope and produced anger. ‘Andreas…I don’t see any point in you being here. I’ve nothing more to say to you.’

      ‘You approached me first.’

      ‘Yes and I said what I had to say.’ Her heart-shaped face pale with strain, Hope folded her arms in a jerky movement.

      ‘But I’ve barely got warmed up,’ Andreas fenced, leaning into the apartment to call, ‘Vanessa?’

      Startled, Hope exclaimed, ‘Why are you—?’

      Her friend strolled out to the hall.

      ‘I was convinced you would not be far. Hope and I are going out—’

      ‘No, we’re not. I have a train to catch,’ Hope protested.

      ‘I should be in Athens right now and you screwed it up for me,’ Andreas delivered, lean, strong face taut with fortitude.

      Hope was laced with equal determination. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m not even speaking to you—’

      ‘That’s not a problem,’ Andreas drawled, smooth as silk. ‘I’m perfectly happy to do all the talking. I enjoy it when people just listen to me.’

      ‘I’d know that without even hearing you,’ Vanessa chipped in.

      If her friend had been hoping to put Andreas out of countenance, she had misjudged her man. Ablaze with confidence and purpose, Andreas vented an appreciative laugh. ‘Good.’

      His amusement cut through Hope’s sensitive skin like a knife. That was how much her current crisis meant to Andreas Nicolaidis. He had refused to credit that the baby was his and he didn’t really need to care about her predicament. She studied him with helpless intensity. Getting by without him was agony and seeing him only increased her craving to be with him again. She had to get over that.

      ‘I don’t want to see you…or